


The Mission Impossible

by aconfederacyofscript



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:30:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3541286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aconfederacyofscript/pseuds/aconfederacyofscript
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye has to convince Lance and Trip she is in fact a 'sex god' by getting a girl's number, but not just any girl's: Jemma's. Based on this prompt: "hey I’m sorry to bother you but i’m trying to convince myfriends I’m a sex god so can you please write a fake number on this napkin for me real quick"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mission Impossible

“It’s true,” Skye shrugs with a smug grin on her face, “I am in fact a sex god.”

“Sure, and I’m Santa Claus,” Lance mocks, tipping back the last of his drink. “I want to see that.”

“What, you want to see Skye having sex?” Trip jokes and Skye laughs. Lance just rolls his eyes and punches Trip’s shoulder.

“Of course not. Gross. Ew. And besides that I wouldn’t want to have sex with any of you, thank you very much.”

“Now I’m offended.” Skye winks and takes another swig of her beer.

“What? Never mind. I want to see you pull someone. A girl. Because you’re an outstanding bisexual, and I’ve seen you pick up a man before. But never a woman. And you claim to be a sex god, so you should be able to pull that one off right, love.”

“Sure,” Skye says and takes another shot that’s standing around on their table. Mostly for courage. “Why not.”

She had meant it as a joke, but her friends always took her up on those a little too literal. And this was one she couldn’t back out of. She had to do it, or they would mock her until infinity.

“Okay. Well we wouldn’t want to make it too hard for you and your first try now, would we, Trip?”

“Nah.”

“So go fix a girl’s number.”

“Any girl’s?” Skye asks, her eyes already scanning the crowded bar for a girl that could a) possibly be into women and b) into her. Or would at least be interested in her enough to give her a phone number. Not necessarily her own, Skye could talk her way out of that with her friends.

When she looks back at her friends, she realises they have smug looks on their faces. “Oh no.”

“A girl of our choice.”

Skye knits her eyebrows together and runs a hand through her hair. “How unfair.”

“Life is unfair. We get to pick, or you’re not a sex god,” Lance laughs and Skye rolls her eyes.

“Fine. Tell me which girl you have picked and I shall go get her number,” Skye bluffs and leans back in her chair, trying to look slightly cocky.

The guys discuss for a minute, pointing fingers every now and then until one of them seems to spot the perfect candidate for this impossible task at hand. Skye realises that they will pick out the girl with the straightest looks. Not that that means anything. Skye figured out that sometimes the straighter they look, the more eager they were to go home with her for the night. However, she had a feeling that that wouldn’t be the case tonight. Her friends just seemed to have a knack for picking out just the girl that was unreachable for her. Out of her league. The Mission Impossible.

“Her,” Lance points the opening of his beer bottle to the far end of the bar. “The girl with the tie.”

“She’s like barfy heterosexual, Lance. You’re setting me up for a loss.”

The guys just laugh and Trip shrugs. “There wouldn’t be any fun in this game otherwise, would there be?”

“I hate both of you,” Skye grins, but gets up anyway. She picks up a clean napkin from their table and reaches into her bag for a sharpie. “I’ll be right back with her number. Thanks guys.”

She turns around with a dazzling grin and squares her shoulders. Even though she’s very nervous all of a sudden and has every right to be, she needs to do this to save her ass.

The girl is smoking hot. The closer Skye gets, the more attractive she becomes with her perfectly plucked eyebrows, bright hazel eyes and a smile that made her even more nervous. She was dressed casually, but for some reason Skye thought she came straight from work. Straight. Ugh, Skye thinks. What was she even thinking.

By the time her train of thought ends, she’s reached the end of the bar where she’s sitting with an equally attractive woman. The girl with the tie is drinking a beer, her company sipping from a brightly coloured cocktail.

“Hi,” Skye begins with a bright smile and both the women look up at her simultaneously, “I’m so sorry to bother you, I’m Skye, and I’m trying to convince my two friends over there that I am in fact a… sex god. I know, I know. So can you maybe write a fake number on this napkin for me real quick?”

“Well, you’re very straight forward, Skye,” the woman with the tie laughs and extends her hand, which Skye shakes happily, “Jemma. This is my friend Barbara.”

“Bobbi.”

They shake hands.

“Nice to meet you. So, how about helping a girl out?” Skye grins, “I mean I would love to get your actual number, but I am assuming – and I think that’s why my friends picked you out – that you are in fact not into women.”

“I’m gonna go talk to your friends,” Bobbi says out of the blue and is out of her seat before Skye can really protest that.

“She’s probably going to intimidate them,” Jemma laughs and points at the now vacant stool, “please, sit down.”

“Really? Okay, sure. Can I buy you a drink? Or you’re still having a drink. I’m gonna get a drink, just let me know if you’d like another one,” Skye rambles and Jemma rests a cool hand on her forearm.

“Breathe. I’d love another drink, thank you. How about a Mojito?”

“Sounds perfect, really. I’ll put it on my tab,” Skye smiles and waves the bartender over to order the drinks.

“So, you’re a sex god, Skye?” Jemma teases when they have received their drinks and Skye nearly chokes on her first sip.

“Well, I wouldn’t say sex god exactly, but I blurted it out, you know. I was hanging with ‘the guys’ and sometimes I say stupid stuff. And they take me up on it.”

“So they dared you to chat me up?”

“That’s the bottom line, yes. But it’s fine if you don’t want to be involved in this, you don’t have to be part of my bad girl shenanigans, Jemma… What’s your last name?”

“Simmons, why?”

“I have a thing for last names, since I don’t have one.”

“You get stranger by the minute,” Jemma winks and takes another sip, “so what do you do, Skye without a last name? Aside from chatting up random girls in a bar.”

They laugh.

“I’m an IT-specialist, actually.”

“Really?”

“Why so sceptical, last name Simmons?” Skye grins and runs a hand through her hair.

“Nothing, it just surprises me. You don’t often see women in that field,” Jemma answers with a soft smile, “or in my line of work, for that matter.”

“Let me guess. You are a…” Skye’s sentence trails off when she furrows her brow in thought. She didn’t really know where to place her. She is intelligent, there’s no doubt about that. She’s easy to talk to, so maybe something with people, but she was also at the bar and not on the dance floor. So she probably doesn’t like to be the centre of attention. “… I don’t know? Not an artist, I bet. At least not for a living. You don’t peg me as the stay at home mom type either so I’m thinking you went to university. Do you have a medical degree?”

“Close.”

“So something with science?”

“I’m a double biochem major.”

“That’s…. oddly attractive,” Skye smiles and shrugs with one shoulder, “but you never told me whether you were attracted to women at all.”

“Does that matter?”

“Not particularly. Sexuality isn’t the most important thing about someone. I’m gonna stay on this stool until my drink is finished anyway, maybe order another if you’ll have me around. But I will not try to flirt with you awkwardly if you’re not into it. That’s rude, you know.”

“Skye, you are a very attractive woman.”

“I suspect a ‘but’.”

“But nothing. You are. You don’t have to try so hard.” Jemma places her hand over hers and smiles. “You have my attention.”

“Okay. Thank you, you are very attractive yourself, last name Simmons.”

“Thank you. I wonder how your friends are doing. Bobbi is a lot to deal with,” Jemma remarks and looks at a point over Skye’s shoulder.

When Skye turns around to look she sees Bobbi sitting between the two guys, obviously engrossed in a shot-competition.

“Is she drinking them under the table?” Skye asks in awe. She doesn’t know anyone who can drink as much as Lance Hunter.

“Undoubtedly.”

“That’s insane.”

“Do you want another drink, maybe?” There’s one sip left in her own glass while Skye’s has been empty for a few minutes now. She empties it and places it next to hers on the bar.

“One drink, okay. I can do that.”

“One drink. I need to be in the lab by eight thirty tomorrow.”

“Same. Well, the IT lab.”

Jemma scrunches her nose and orders them another drink. Something with coconut rum.

“What’s this?” Skye asks when the bartender places the pink drinks in front of them, and Jemma quirks an eyebrow.

“Malibu Twisted Pink.”

“It’s pretty,” Skye quirks her own eyebrow while taking a sip, “and surprisingly tasty.”

Halfway through their drink and their conversation Lance and Trip show up with Bobbi.

“The guys are party poopers. They are drunk and should probably be taken home,” Bobbi grins, looking the least bit unfazed by the amount of alcohol they drank.

“This woman is impressive,” Lance slurs and rests heavily on Skye’s shoulder. “I will marry her someday, love. Mark my words.”

“You are an embarrassment, Lance Hunter, you should be ashamed of yourself,” Skye grunts, “I better get them home then. It was lovely to meet you two. Maybe we will meet again, Bobbi whose last name remains unknown and last name Simmons.”

She takes a last sip from her drink and accepts her jacket from Trip, who’s also holding her bag.

“Good night, and thanks for watching them while I was chatting to Jemma,” Skye says with a bright smile to the both of them while putting on her jacket and wrapping her arm around Lance.

“Bye, Skye. Get ‘em home safe alright.” Bobbi laughs and Skye tips her forehead; saluting.

When she’s nearly out the door with Trip leading the way and Lance hanging on to her, she hears someone calling her name, so she pushes Lance over to Trip. They both nearly collapse, and Skye laughs.

“Skye, hold up!”

“Yeah?” she turns around, checking her pockets. She has a habit of leaving things as stupid as chap stick to as important as her phone.

“You forgot something.” It’s Jemma’s crisp accent. She smiles.

“And here I thought I brought everything with me,” she says.

Jemma presses something in her hand and stretches up. “It’s not a fake,” she whispers into her ear and presses a quick kiss to her lips before walking back inside again without looking back.

In Skye’s hand is the napkin she brought to Jemma, but the sharpie she kept. There’s a phone number written on it and Skye remembers to take a photo of it immediately so there’s evidence might she lose it. So she can call anyway.

“See, I told you I’m a sex god,” Skye says and shows the guys the napkin, but they barely register. “Okay, time to get you boys home. Let’s go.”

Skye grins to herself stupidly and shakes her head, touching her lips in awe. She did really get a kiss from Jemma Simmons with the worst pick-up line in history.


End file.
